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作曲 : David Stefan Rovics |
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One point eight million people surrounded on all sides |
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Refugees since '48, since '67, occupied |
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The only reason they're not starving is down to the UN |
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Most have never left there, stuck in the lion's den |
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The most crowded place on Earth, and there they'll stay |
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They can't visit cousins a half hour's drive away |
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Drones overhead, constantly |
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Who will die tomorrow, a daily mystery |
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In Gaza. |
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|
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The settlers moved out, fighter jets moved in |
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In Gaza there's just no way that you can win |
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You can't take out a copter with an antiquated gun |
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You're just a target, sitting in the sun |
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Waiting for your death to come raining from the sky |
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Where the end really is nigh |
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You can hear a sonic boom and see a flashing light |
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Every hour of the day, every hour of the night |
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In Gaza. |
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|
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There are no shelters, nowhere you can hide |
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Life is nothing like it is on the other side |
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There's nothing post about the traumatic stress |
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There's never more, usually less |
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And still some people wonder, they insist on asking why |
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Anyone would be so mad as to reply |
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So mad as to think that it might make sense |
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To lob some missiles over the fence |
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From Gaza. |
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From Gaza. |
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From Gaza... |
